


The Crack In The Bell

by All4TheBest



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron Burr is problematic, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But he is trying really hard, F/M, Foster Family Washington's, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Poor Aaron Burr, are in over their heads, mute Alexander, not that they would admit that, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All4TheBest/pseuds/All4TheBest
Summary: Alexander Hamilton was not the kind of person who could, or would for that matter, hold his tongue. Especially when faced with the blatant favoritism and borderline neglectful practices that circulated Princeton Boys Home where the pair lived in. He was one to turn the other cheek, or smile and nod until his perceived problems went away. Alexander was a fighter. Which was probably what hurt him so much in the end.  (Summary subject to change)





	1. Talk Less, Smile More

_At first, the four words were no more than a suggestion, a piece of advice that he passed down to all of the new foster kids. A golden rule in which to survive the system by. Foster placements, in Aaron's experience, lasted a whole lot longer when you kept your head down and stayed out of trouble. However, even that first late winter night Aaron knew that the overly expressive bug-eyed malnourished kid in front of him was not going to heed something as simple as good advice._

_Even in the beginning, it was clear that Alexander Hamilton was not the kind of person who could, or would for that matter, hold his tongue. Especially when faced with the blatant favoritism and borderline neglectful practices that circulated Princeton Boys Home where the pair lived in. He was not one to turn the other cheek, or smile and nod until his perceived problems went away. Alexander was a fighter._

_Someone who used his large intelligence and mastery of elocution to both amaze and insult people equally and his small body and quick reflexes to survive any fights that turned physical. Only hours after turning up on the doorstep with little more than three plastic bags in his hands and a pair of shoes held together by more tape than fabric Alexander Hamilton started fighting back against the workers._

_It was entertaining, to say the least. So he waited and took the time to observe his newest and youngest house-mate. He stepped in when needed of course, which was pretty often as the boy had a tendency to punch way above his weight class, but for the most part, he observed. Some of the first things he noticed were how much energy ran through the boy. A personification of the energizer bunny the budding teenager was constantly doing something._

_Soon Aaron's observations led to a camaraderie which blossomed into a friendship. In that friendship, the four words became an inside joke, crackled between them in the dark of night shoulders pressed together as they tried to keep awake. They traded stories played stupid and mind games to try and lull each other into what each hoped would be a sleep without dreams._

_On the dark winter nights when the memories seemed too prevalent, when sleep seemed near impossible they would curl together on a sole cot. Pulling both thin blankets together to make one thicker one and then curled around each other to keep themselves warm. In the silence, they would trade the stories behind their nightmares._

_Aaron tells of his bad placements. Of the rooms without doors and the sick feeling, that settled into the pit of his stomach when the shadows would slink closer in the dead of night. Of blankets caked in blood. Of the faces and delicate hands that he still recoils from as if they were hard glares and curled fists. He tells Alexander the reason why he holds so tight to his four words. The reason finds it so hard to speak out. The responses he has gotten when he has. He tells Alexander about the blades, about the lines that cover his upper thighs and forearms. He tells about his wish to gain control of some part of himself. His wish to stop being treated like a rag doll that is tossed from place to place with no care as to where it lands and start being treated like a human being who deserved even the most basic comforts. Like the promise that he would have a roof over his head come the next morning._

_In response, he is trusted with horrors that make Alexander scared to stop. The terrors that lurk in his subconscious that makes the sheer idea of 'taking a break' the most terrifying thing in the world to the dark eyed boy. Alexander talks about the storm and how tired he was and how he had to keep moving past the time when his limbs felt like led and his body was raw with sunburn. He talks about the tent hospital and how he had to fight to stay awake so he could flag down overworked nurses to make sure he and his mother were�t passed up. He talks about his mother and the way her faced looked the morning he woke up to see that she was no longer alive. He talks about the plane he was brought over on and the distant cousin who had taken him in. He talks about his love for the city that never sleeps and his want to be enveloped into time square itself. Where he cannot sleep for weeks and no one would notice._

_Aaron would never be able to stay awake all night. Always nodding off an hour before dawn as Alexander just pulled him close. Ignoring the fact that Aaron was a good head taller than him and almost a complete year his senior to offer his comfort, hidden in a promise that Alexander would always be there for him. That Alexander would never let the shadows take him again.  In return, there would be nights that Aaron would tug Alexander down card his hand through the hair at the younger boys’ temple and hum songs with words that he had long forgotten and had no wish to remember._

_With the end of their first year came Mr. King George (the third) a business man of great wealth and influence. A modern-day Daddy Warbucks who swept through the boy’s home right as school was being let out for Christmas break and chose Aaron and Alexander with the same amount of forethought that small children give to their selection of fish from the pet store._

_For a brief second it had been euphoric._

_They had a home._

_A real home._

_With a father._

_So they changed out lumpy floor mattresses and broken plywood furniture for a mansion whose polished tile and light filled areas made it seemed like it was marble happily. They shed their oversized hand-me-downs for silk feeling shirts without fuss and began to learn how to slip into the role that was expected of them._

_It was not weeks later, however, before the marvel of modern architecture that was too large and too impersonal to house any person. Especially a too small immigrant from the Caribbean with a mouth that ran a mile a minute and a boy from downtown Newark with too much intelligence and not near enough social skills. The house and lifestyle of Mr. George fit the pair like a parent’s jacket fit a small child._

_Their ill fit did nothing but frustrate Mr. George and his friends who all had short tempers, heavy-handed views of discipline, and impossible standards of behavior. So the house that was supposed to be their deliverance quickly turned violent. With the violence, the joke whispered between the recently adopted orphans evolved quickly into a plea whispered from Aaron to Alexander each day in the comfort that came from the locked door of their shared room._

_Play Mr.. George�s games, his way._

_Do not let your temper get the better of you._

_Do not give him more reasons to hit us._

_Please. Alexander stop, please just stop._

_Please... Please…. I cannot lose you as well._

_Before two months had passed the marble mansion had ripped the statement of all of its lightness and instead replaced it with too vivid realities of bruises and fractures and blankets caked in dried blood. With all too realistic threats of concrete cellars and leather whips._

_A reality that changed the words into a plea into a weeping prayer to any deity kind enough to listen. Spoken over whispered apologies that made his stomach turn violently. Whispered softly in the hours where Aaron could do nothing but clutch Alexander to his chest tightly ignoring his own pain as he waited for the convulsions that contorted the body of the young teen to subside and be replaced by the less terrifying stillness of unconsciousness._

_After that came the lights from the emergency vehicles: police cars, ambulances, and fire engines all descending on the large house like a parade of red and blue.  With the vehicles came the sirens rising in the large expanse of land like an echoing cry that unlike Aaron�s broken please everyone could hear. With the sirens came the people. Officers, paramedics, doctors, nurses, social workers, and reporters all of which had questions._

_So many questions._

_Aaron had tried to answer them. He really had. He tried to tell the men and women who looked at him with predatory gazes as they stuck microphones and cameras in his face what they wanted to know. What they thought they had a right to know. But each time he answered one question six more arose and he felt like a wacky a mole, constantly peeking its head out just to be slammed back down by an overeager child on a sugar high._

_Alexander had not tried to answer them. Instead, Alexander just stared at them. Dark eyes holding the last tendrils of his once legendary defiance within them. He had glared at every microphone and every camera with his lips pursed together and jaw cleansed. Not offering even a syllable in response to the questions that battered against his withering form. For the first time in the year that Aaron knew him: Alexander was completely and utterly silent. The words became a sadistic reminder of just how much of themselves was still chained and splattered upon the walls of that cellar._

_And, it was in that silence that the four words Aaron once hailed as his golden rule crumbled beneath him completely._

_Then, and only then, did the words Aaron had once spoken in advice become his biggest regret._


	2. I'll Do Whatever It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aaron,” The name was softly spoken but held the twinge of a bite behind it. As if it was supposed to be a reprimand but had gotten lost somewhere in the way from Richard’s mind to his tongue.
> 
> “It is,” Aaron whispered.
> 
> “I am sorry.”
> 
> “Why Virginia?”
> 
> “With my last act as your social worker, I ensured that you would be placed somewhere safe.”

_Chapter 1:_

_"I'll Do Whatever It Takes”_

It was odd, that even now four months after Alex’s self-imposed vow of silence Aaron still expected to one day find the boy transformed into a flurry of quick paced questions that all ran into each other leaving him no room for an answer. It was wrong, he knew that. Such thoughts only served to make him feel like shit, but yet for eight seconds every time he woke up he thought them. He tried to reason that it was not wrong to bemoan the loss of Alexander. Because Alex, or Ham, or whatever it is he felt compelled to call the Nevisian teen that day was not the Alexander that bustled into Princeton Boys Home that summer afternoon. It was almost as if this new teen was a reflection of who Alexander had been, a fraternal twin of sorts. Someone who looked so much alike but yet was different at the deepest levels. Because it was true he was still unhealthy skinny, his hair was still too long, he still did not get enough sleep, but it was not the same. Instead of the glow of energy that had emitted from Alexander, now there was a soft hum of bone-deep exhaustion. In the place of bright beaming smiles were pointed angry glares. In the place of a non-stop mouth came a non-stop pen. The words that use to spill from his lips until his voice croaked and his mouth dried now turned into words that spilled from his pen until his hand ached and his back hurt from hunching over the page.

 He was being Alexander anymore.

 But he was still here.

And that was enough.

It had always been enough.

It always would be enough.

Aaron loved his pseudo-little brother.  Sure some days were harder than others.

But, even on the days like today when Alex weighed into a fight that had nothing to do with them, and had them both sent to the principal’s office awaiting their social worker and Aaron wanted little more than to grab the Nevisian teen by the neck and shake some sense into his thick skull, he still loved him. Even when the other teen was tapping excessively at his leg and tugging his pants, he still loved him. Even when he….

Aaron stopped realizing that the other boy was not looking at him rather at his lap and that Alex’s dark pupils blown wide with fear.

 He followed the other boys gaze down to see the blood that had pooled around his nail bed and grimaced whipping them against his black pant leg, thankful that he had not decided to wear khakis. Blood shows up better on khakis. Alex’s hands covered Aaron's own, gripping tightly to stop Aaron from unconsciously picking again. A nice sentiment and normally something Aaron found endearing about his foster sibling at the moment it did little more than make his blood boil. So he ripped his hand away with a huff and crossed his arms across his stomach. Alex began trying to coax his hand back into his own. Aaron reentered dropping the tension in his shoulder only to feel the other teen's cold thumb rub circles into his hand. He ripped it away again anger bubbling too close to the surface and this time as he tucked his hands away he twisted his back for good measure.

Alex did not relent.

“I am fine,” Aaron grunted.

Alexander did not relent.

“Cut it out.” He hissed.

Alex did not relent.

“Stop Alex." He growled.

Alex did not relent.

“I said STOP!” Aaron screamed as he stood and twisted to glare at the mute teen. “Stop, stop pulling at my arm, stop fighting so damn much, stop just stop.” Aaron continued as Alexander pulled himself to his feet to meet the other boy's glare. The defiance that Aaron had been so glad to see when the boy woke up at the hospital now being turned at him.

“This is the tenth long term placement that you have gotten us kicked out of in four months.” Aaron hissed, the statement, however, was only partially true. There had been four placements Alex had fought his way out of including this one, two they had run from, two had turned them away stating that they could not accommodate their needs, one they had been forced out of after an ambulance was called, and the last. Well, that house was Aaron’s fault completely. Alex furrowed his brow and stepped closer his glare turning colder and despite not even breathing a sound Aaron heard the protest loud and clear.

“I don’t care what was happening. We have no responsibility to solve problems that don’t involve us Alex. You can’t just go around punching every person that you meet.” Alex rolled up his sleeve and stepped closer, in a spark of anger Aaron reached forward and grabbed the other boy’s forearms squeezing as hard as he could.

“If you don’t stop they will place us in another group home. Or worse they could split us up Alex, is that what you want.” He asked shaking the teen slightly. Alex went limp in his grip eyes focusing on a spot far behind Aaron “Well is it,”

“Aaron let go of Alex,” An all too familiar voice sounded from the direction Alex was looking. Aaron dropped his hands and twisted around.

“Mr. Montgomery….” Aaron began to offer an explanation as to why he was gripping on to Alex so tightly but the words fell short. Richard stepped closer eyes darted down automatically and saw the raw skin around Aaron’s hands before reaching out a hand to pat the boy's shoulder and nodding his head toward Alex.

“How have you boys been?” Richard asked with a smile.

“We have had better first days.” Aaron sighed.

“Clearly, The Edwards family wanted me to tell you….” Richard began his manufactured spiel.

“We haven’t even known them for 72 hours, Mr. Montgomery. I doubt very much they had any last words of wisdom for us.” Aaron said turning around and gathering his backpack.

“Where to now,” Aaron asked as he slung the messenger bag over his shoulders careful to keep his gaze away from Alex’s probing one.

“Virginia,”

“What,” Aaron choked out.

“The other people on your cases believe that a change of scenery would be beneficial. They have been fighting to get you transferred since….”

“Why,”

“Proximity to the trauma site.”

“That is bull shit.”

“Aaron,” The name was softly spoken but held the twinge of a bite behind it. As if it was supposed to be a reprimand but had gotten lost somewhere in the way from Richard’s mind to his tongue.

“It is,” Aaron whispered.

“I am sorry.”

“Why Virginia?”

“With my last act as your social worker, I made sure that you would be placed somewhere safe.”

“Virginia is safe?”

“It is the system I have the closest ties to. I know your new social worker, Nelly, well. She was in the system when she was a teenager after a bad crash. I know your new placement as well. It is an older couple, George, and Martha, who are well versed in taking in teenagers with complex backgrounds. They stopped fostering for a while after they adopted George’s godson from France, Gilbert, but they agreed to take of you two under the circumstances.”

Alex who had been content to observe until this point gripped Aaron’s hand tightly twisting himself as to cradled the other boy's arm against his chest. Then he glanced over at Richard.

‘ _We stay together, yes?’_ He signed eyes looking at Richard. Richard watched the moment before looking to Aaron for a translation.

“He wants to make sure that this new worker won’t split us up the first chance she gets,” Aaron said refocusing his own eyes to stare at Richard as well.

“Do you remember what I promised you that very first night at the hospital,” Richard asked his shoulders falling as the tension released from his shoulders and he physically deflated as he looked at them with something akin to regret in his eyes.

“That you would always look out for us.”

“Right, I want to tell you both that Nelly would never separate you. But as you age it becomes harder and harder to find foster homes prepared to take in two boys.”

“What does that mean,”

“Try your best to behave at the Washington’s. You are both intelligent and charismatic boys, make them like you.”

“Are the Washington’s the end of the line.”

“I don’t know if they are. But I can’t say they aren’t.”

Aaron hissed a breath through his closed teeth and shrugged his arm to better wrap Alex under it as the smaller teen whimpered silently into his chest. Richard had dropped his gaze somewhere admits his statement about their age becoming an issue in placements. It was not long after that Aaron and Alex were led to the back of Richard’s small rusted red Kia Rio complete with its black bumper and white hood.

After a fifteen-minute stop at the Edwards’ home where Aaron and Alex grabbed their bags, never even managing to get them unpacked, and said goodbye to the four white walls and rickety metal bunk bed, completely with mattresses that felt like wood, that had made up their room for the entirety of two full nights. While they loaded their bags into the deceptively large trunk of Mr. Montgomery’s car Aaron grimaced. Lately, it was becoming harder to ignore the fact that all of his possessions, every physical mark on this world of his existence, could fit easily inside a tattered messenger bag and a 21” suitcase with a squeaky wheel and broken handle. As well as the fact that Alex’s possessions could be placed in a black hiking backpack that’s right strap had broken off three placements ago and 15” suitcase that was being held together by three belts, since the zipper had broken.

Aaron curled back into the back seat tucking his messenger bag into the hump leaning against the council while Alex pulled out his latest notebook and a spare and tucked his backpack between Aaron’s and the bench seat. It was familiar, in fact, it felt as if the pair had spent more time in the back seat of this car than they had anywhere else since Mr. George and the hospital.

“Jeeves,” Richard asked as he slipped into the front seat of the car after shaking the hand of a pursed lip Mr. Edwards who had been called from work to allow the boys the opportunity to collect their things.

Aaron and Alex both just nodded.

“Best thing about a long drive,” Richard said as he backed out of the driveway and around the cold sack, “is that we will be able to hear the whole novel before we get there.” He said and Aaron twisted to place his cheek against the chilled window and close his eyes while Alex offered a weak smile and a nod while Richard fiddled with the radio and plugged his phone into the audio jack cord.

_“Jeeves—my man, you know—is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him._

From where he sat, just beginning to lose himself in his writing Alex reached his foot over and tucked it between Aaron’s thigh and the seat. It was a small movement subtle but it allowed Aaron to chase the tension from his shoulders.

Closing his eyes Aaron allowed the overly annunciated voice of the narrator to wash over him as he rested. After all, there was a long road ahead of the trio, and no one could know exactly where that road would lead if kicked out of the Washington house. So Aaron would have to ensure that they weren't. He would have to roll back his shoulders, present his chest and act like the articulate and respectful foster that placements always wanted. He would have to keep a closer eye on Alexander and make sure that the Washington's had no reason not to keep them around. He would do whatever it took. It was the only way to make sure that he could keep Alex safe. 

He had to keep Alex safe. 

He just had to. 


	3. Wait For It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The silver letters on the building glittered in the sunlight practically blinding the three males as they made their accent up to the door of the glass faced skyscraper in front of them. 
> 
> Department of Family Services  
> Pennino Building
> 
> Not really the most welcoming sight. Not even Richard, with his normal unshakable optimism could find any comment to make the approach to the building seam less like a walk into a execution.

_Chapter 3:_

_Wait For It_

“Are you ready?” Mr. Montgomery asked as the little KIA was shifted into park and he slipped his key from the ignition. He fiddled with his phone for a few minutes before looking up and catching Aaron’s eyes in the rear view mirror. Richard’s crystal blue eyes were shining with misguided hope where they sat sunken into his ashen complexion.

  
“Yes.” He said simply, not feeling very eloquent at the moment but knowing that leaving Richard’s question unanswered would not be acceptable.

  
“You’re sure?” Richard ask raising one busy black eyebrow as he reached over and twisted so that he could look directly at Aaron.

  
“Yes.” Aaron repeated.

“You’re not saying much. Aren't you the least bit excited?” Aaron wanted to call attention to the fact that this was less of an exciting development and more of a precursor to a death sentence but bit his tongue instead and sighed sparing a glance at where Alexander sat huddled around the notebook that rested on his knees and looked up with a guarded expression.

“No.” At this Richard’s face curled in on itself as if he had swallowed a particularly sour citrus fruit. Aaron broke eye contact as he tapped Alexander’s leg and motioned for the other boy to exit the vehicle. After Alexander stuffed his notebook back into his bag the two exited the car together with shocking precision. Leaving Richard to sit twisted in the driver seat staring at the recently vacated back seat. The older man sighed shifting to face forward once again and to rub at his eyes with the palm of his hand.

A quick patter of knocks against the window of the car made him startle and twist, only to see Alexander crouched down near the window with one raised eyebrow and right hand gesturing toward the building in front of them in a silent, _well._

With another collecting breath Richard grabbed his briefcase from the seat next to him and slipped out of the car as well. As with every house that Richard had transferred the boys to up to this point he led the way with Aaron and Alexander walking in time two steps behind him. Close enough for their fingers to brush against each other but not to show a complete dependence on each other.

The silver letters on the building glittered in the sunlight practically blinding the three males as they made their accent up to the door of the glass faced skyscraper in front of them. 

_Department of Family Services_ _  
Pennino Building_

Not really the most welcoming sight. Not even Richard, with his normal unshakable optimism could find any comment to make the approach to the building seam less like a walk into an execution. Once inside a plump woman dressed in a purple skirt suit that was better left in the 1960’s, seated behind a large semi-oval mirror faced desk eyed them from behind a pair of gaudy purple coke bottle spectacles. 

“Excuse me?” She said after clearing her throat, though the action did little to take away her grovel filled tone, “we close at four” She sated. Richard shifted and rolled his shoulder back to not cower under the woman’s piercing gage.

“We are here to see Ms. Curtis. She is aware of the peculiar situation.”

“Are these the _troubled boys_ that she coerced the General into taking.”

“These are the young and intelligent teenager’s that the Washington’s agreed to foster.”

“I swear why a good upstanding family like that would take in those type of cases is beyond me.”  

“Mrs. Quigley” The voice that sounded from down the hallway was sharp and high pitched but not in such a way that was grating. Rather in a melodic, cartoon character sort of fashion. “I believe that these men are here to see me.”

“Just making small talk.” Mrs. Quigley said with a huff as twisted and sat back down. The younger woman rolled her eyes and motioned for Richard to follow her. Setting her face into a snarl as she went. She led the three males up three flights of stairs into an office near the middle of a long hallway that had dark blue curtain strung across the window. She shut the door behind them before letting her face fall into a smile.

“It is nice to see you again Richard.” She said wrapping her arms around Richard in an awkward hug, seeing as with her two inch heels and naturally lengthy form she was practically an entire head taller than the man.

“You as well Nells” Richard said hugging back. The hug lags for a few seconds longer than what is socially acceptable but neither seem put off by the contact.

“And the boys, I must say it is nice to put faces to the names that I have heard so much about these past few weeks.” She said stepping away and turning to where Aaron and Alexander stood pushed against the far wall of the office. “Aaron and Alexander right.” She said methodically pointing to the teen in question as she went to place their names to their face before walking over to shake their hands.

“Alex,” Aaron said quickly. Stepping in front of the smaller teen before she reached them and forcing his hands behind his back to deny the hand that was outstretched for himself.

“Excuse me,” Nelly said dropping her hand. Her face stayed open however, a bright smile lighting a blush on her cheeks that was a well-placed ploy to try and get them to trust her. Aaron had been in the system long enough to know that the smiling case workers were not always the kindest. Sometimes the ones who smiled were the cruelest.

“Alex, not Alexander.” Aaron said sharply. Eyes darting to Richard sharply. As if questioning why the man would ever use Alex’s given name when he knew that it was no longer what the teen was called.

“Of course, I apologize. My name is Ms. Curtis, or Nelly if you would prefer.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Curtis” Aaron said firmly, leaving no question as to what the new case worker would be addresses as.

After a pointed look from Richard he sighed and relaxed his shoulders finally offering his hand that was not covered in newly picked sores. The handshake lasted too long to be comfortable as her eyes tracked to Alex who crossed his arms and shook his head in response. Nelly did seem a bit shaken by that reaction, but she recovered quickly turning on a heal and walking over to her desk.

“Now, I would make excuses for Mrs. Quigley’s behavior, but unfortunately she is always like that.” Mrs. Curtis said, eyes connecting with Aaron’s again.

“Here are the boy’s files Nelly. I know I sent you some of the more pressing information already,” Richard said setting down his brief case and pulling one five-inch binder from the confines, and one two-inch binder from the confines. The larger binder belonging to Aaron, while the smaller one belonged to Alex Aaron tracked his files with his eyes narrowed and heart rate quick. This was it, this was real. In one day they had not only been kicked out of a placement but out of a state. Out of the area where Aaron’s family was buried, out of the very first sight Alexander had seen after stepping off the plane from St. Croix. From home.

 Beside him Alex gripped tight to his hand. But from the shake in his own limbs Aaron was unaware if the motion was to stop himself from picking at his hands or a request for comfort. So he decided to tuck Alex under his arm, as the smaller boy twisted to mold himself to Aaron’s side Richard caught sight of them.

“Is everything alright Aaron?” He asked inclining his head toward Alex whose hands where gripped to tight against the rough fabric of Aaron’s button up hair brushing under Aaron’s nose and tickling slightly.

“No,” Aaron said back. Tone swallowed deep in his throat unable to be heard by either of the adults who were slowly edging closer faces pinched in concern. Lowering his head to rest it in the juncture between Alexander’s shoulder and neck he tightened his arms and swallowed the growing lump in his throat.

“It will be,” Is what he offered instead. Because, he believed it just as much as he beleived that everything was not fine at that moment. 

Everything would be fine, one day the memories would hurt less and everything would be fine. Aaron just did not know when that would happen, and until it did well he resigned himself to wait for it. 


	4. I’ll Be Around for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disassociating was not one of the new facets of Alex, in fact disassociating was quite common coping mechanism that he had even when he was twelve-year-old Alexander with his bright smile and overly optimistic view of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving American Readers. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this update.

I’ll Be Around for You

Despite Aaron’s saintly patience, after seven minutes of crushing a panicking Alex to his chest he realized that he needed to get the other boy out of the office. Richard was now gone, having taken his leave five minutes ago when it became clear that Aaron had no other words to offer his old social worker, Mr. Washington was still an hour away, and the prospect of taking the five-hour trip home during the height of rush hour was weighed down against his shoulders.

Aaron did not mind however.

Sure, at some point Aaron thought that Richard was different. Thought the man actually cared about him, about Alex. Sure, it hurt to be tossed aside like a utensil that outlived its use. But he had lived through five social workers and he would be damned if he let this one, this man, be the one that broke him down.

Richard was a man whose job was to shuffle around misplaced children.

Richard was good enough at his job to make the children think he cared.

But he didn't.

No social worker ever did, and though he knew precious little of Ms. Curtis he was certain that history would repeat itself.

In fact, it would probably run its course sooner than later if her current body language was a true indication of her discomfort. The woman in question was trying to seem as if she was not uncomfortable or unnerved by Alex’s behavior but her wandering gaze and the tense muscles in her shoulders gave her away. Aaron had half a mind to just snap at her after the twenty second time she looked up chewed on the cap of her pen, pointed it as if to raise a suggestion and then chickened out going back to thumbing through whatever was currently spread out in front of her. In fact, he had more than have a mind to do a lot more than snap.

It was one of those times that Aaron thanked the powers that be for his impulse control.

When he felt Alex’s tremors stop and the body pressed against him sag he let out a sigh of relief. Maybe this specific episode would not last all to long and they could mentally prepare for Mr. Washington’s arrival before the man showed up to whisk them away like the godparent in some American Fairy Tale.

Aaron raised his hands from their place on the Nevisian’s wrists to rub a soft pattern into the other teens back whilst he hummed a hymn he no longer remembered the words to. After three repetitions of the simple melody Alex shifted more of his weight back and forth as his hands moved to rest at his elbows and he stopped leaning against Aaron supporting his own weight with tense shoulders and tightly formed fists.

Fearing that Alex was slipping further into the panic attack rather than recovering Aaron moved his hands to slowly tilt his head backward so he could see Alex’s eyes. His pupils were blown wide with fear, his cheeks flushed red with dry tear tracks and his lips open just the tiniest bit as he sucked air though his clinched teeth.

Aaron recoiled, dropping his hands suddenly and stepped away sucking a harsh breath in through his teeth, “Alex,” he whispered stepping back and grasping the boy’s face hoping to see a spark of recognition in the other teens eyes. But there was nothing. He lowered his hands and shook the boys shoulders slightly. But there was nothing.

“Aaron,” Mrs. Curtis said noticing the change in the rooms atmosphere once Aaron realized Alex was disassociating. Pushing her chair back and standing up. The click of her heals signaled her approach and within a second Aaron had dropped his hands to Alexander’s shoulders moved him to the side and stood in such a way to block the social workers access to the younger teen.

His face fell into a dangerous snarl as he did. At this the social worker retreated back reaching for her desk and pulling herself up to sit, resting her heels against the front of it with her hands placed out flat on the wood and face equal parts scared and concerned.

After three minutes where in Aaron’s brain was unable to determine that the woman was not indeed a threat he straightened up and molded his gaze from one of anger to one of indifference.

“Where is the nearest restroom,” he asked slipping into his most congenial and mature tone but making sure to keep one arm on Alexander’s wrist so that the boy was completely shielded by Aaron’s own form.

“Down the hall to the right. Aaron are you sure that you don’t need anything….” She said cautiously pushing herself onto her own feet rather than leaning against her desk.

“Alexander and I both have been in the car for five hours Mrs. Curtis. All we need is a restroom.” He said as he twisted and left the room. He had almost shut the door behind him when he remembered that this woman was now in control of his and Alex’s life, so he paused and turned back. “Thank you for your concern,” he added before letting the door shut and steering Alexander to the nearest bathroom.

He was glad that in this state Alex was receptive to even the slightest of pressures. Able to be propelled forward with the slight pressure of a hand at his wrist or against the small of his back.

It was especially helpful seeing as disassociating was not one of the new facets of Alex, in fact it was a common coping mechanism that he had even when he was twelve-year-old Alexander with his bright smile and overly optimistic view of the world. Even though it was not new however it was still the facet that Aaron struggled with the most. Both in terms of helping Alex and in terms of his own mental state. Seeing someone who had such an animated personality loose it completely was utterly terrifying. As he pushed open the door to the ungendered restroom and led Alexander though the main sink area to the largest stall he forced his thoughts outward so he could focus on Alexander. Placing the teen in the far corner, where he knew Alex felt the safest, he went to the sink to wet paper towels.

When Aaron turned off the tap and turned back to Alex, the boy in question was seated on the floor curled up in a ball by the time Aaron got back over and without thought Aaron dropped to his knees and began pulling at the other teen to begin wiping off his face and pressing the cool water to his forehead. He still hummed as he worked, every once in a while throwing out reassurances that he was there and everything was going to be okay, hoping that this episode would be shorter than normal and that they would be able to get back into the social worker’s office before Mr. Washington was there to collect them.

He knew that his hope was misguided, these episodes took hours at the least and three days at the most and from what Aaron understood. After Alex’s face was clean as it could be with paper towels and water Aaron shifted so that he sat next to his pseudo-little brother and could pull the boy to rest against his chest while he ran his long fingers through the thick black shoulder length mess of knots Alexander had for hair and just wait it out.

It was almost half an hour of sitting on the bathroom floor watching the feet of ‘patrons’ that were more than likely sent to check to make sure the teens hadn't run away yet. He wasn't surprised in the least. After all it was in their file, and he would be lying if he said that he had not entertained the thought more than a few times.

 He was beginning to formulate a way to explain this to Mr. Washington when Alexander’s hand reached up and gripped tight at Aaron’s wrist.

Looking down to catch the smaller teen’s gaze Aaron saw the welled up tears that rolled down his face and the self-disparaging apology that was shown in deafening silence.

“No,” Aaron choked out brushing the tears from Alexander’s cheeks and crushing the boys head to his chest. “No, no, no Alex no.” He chanted as he tried to chase that look from Alexander’s face relishing in the relief that came from the arms snaking around his waist and holding him tight.

“I love you Alexander, you know that right?” Aaron said Alex pulled up to catch Aaron’s gaze before his eyes flicked up and to the right and his hands slipped from the hug into a tight grasp of Aaron’s forearms. A reminder of Aaron’s blow out earlier that day. Before absolutely everything had gone to shit.

“What I said before. I was just frustrated I never meant to make you think that.” He said watching as Alex’s hands trailed down to grip Aaron’s hands fingers slotting though each other.

“Of course we will stay together Alexander.” Aaron said making sure to catch the other boys cheek before he continued. Knowing that he would indicate their new social worker and the whole uncertainty of the day. Aaron did not need Alex to do that however, he needed Alex to focus and calm down so they could greet this new foster family with fake smiles and firm handshakes not a bathroom panic session.

“I promise Alexander, I promise. I will not walk away from you _.”_ Aaron said tightening his grip on Alexander’s hands. “I will not let you go.” Alexander released one hand to form an American sign language Y with his fingers and rock them back and forth between their chests. Silently indicating the word same. Aaron caught Alex’s hand on the fifth rock pulling it to rest against his chest.

“Even if we have to run away Alex, I promise we will stay together.” He said pulling Alexander in for one last extended hug where he whispered reassurances into the other boy’s temple.


	5. The Moment You've Been Waiting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mr. Washington, I presume"
> 
> A first meeting from two perspectives.

The Moment You've Been Waiting For

Alex Hamilton had written the day off as a bust the moment he first hit George Eaker. The one rule at his newest placement, that they were preemptive with giving, was no fighting. But when he saw the face of an underclassman white with panic as he was shoved against a wall and screamed at he had to do something and normally that something was fight back.

The professionals who the state hired to ‘assess’ Alex’s ‘adjustment’ called the urge a reaction to trauma. Alex himself referred to it more as a reaction to other idiocy.

Either way within seconds of the lunch bell Alex had Eaker on the ground and was punching as hard as he could. Eaker for his part fought back as well. The swelling of Alex’s left eye, the bite-mark on the outside of his left forearm and the pain that shot from his left shoulder to his wrist from it being twisted where testament to that fact. When Eaker, who had the upper hand at that point, rolled off he kicked Alex in the ribs for good measure.

From there the day had only gotten worse.

Because Alex could not keep his fist to himself he got both himself and Aaron removed from their home. Ripped cruelly away from the only place that felt safe because some asshole with a psychology degree decided that it would be better in looking at numbers, not at the two teenagers that those numbers represented. Then by the time dusk fell he was in Virginia. Richard, the only person he would trust should Aaron be indisposed, walking away from them. Handing them to a woman who might just rip Aaron away from him as well.

It was too much to process.

Too much change. Too much uncertainty.

So Alex did what he always did when he could not cope.

_He_ _shut down_ _._

When he came back to himself Aaron was crying and holding on to him with knuckles white and blunt nails scratching into the skin of his shoulder blades.

Alex held his brother’s face in his hands. He whipped the dried tear tracks from Aaron’s own bruised cheeks and signed the word same to remind Aaron that even if he drifted he was never truly lost. He could not be, not with Aaron as his anchor.

Ten minutes passed Aaron clinging and Alex rubbing soft circles into the meat of the older boy’s shoulder. Trying to convey without words the sense of bright optimism that he tried to instill in Aaron before Mr. George, before cool bite of metal, before the hospital.  Then Aaron sobered, the tears that fell from his eyes ceased in a second. The body racking hiccups that shot through him stilled and he stood readjusting his slacks and button up and untying his simple slip knotted tie for something more complex and sophisticated. As he moved silent and stoic Alex watched as the mask of Burr covered Aaron completely.

A mask that had been set long before Alex.

“Ready?” Burr asked as he pushed himself his voice dropped just below his normal register and reverberated with false bravado that Alex used to call Aaron out on. Now though he just stood. Adjusted his own clothing, fixed his own tie, and regathered his hair into a presentable ponytail.

“Tuck in and button up,” Burr said motioning at the edges of Alex’s shirt that was not tucked into his pants and the top button that lay unclasped. Alex raised one eyebrow as he hesitated to follow the instruction.

“General Washington,” was the short and sharp explanation Burr provided.   After he finished buttoning the top button and fixing his shirt Aaron started finicking, A nervous habit.

“Look him in the eye, no higher.” Aaron said breaking through the mask of Burr for a brief second to offer a few last tidbits of advice.

“Keep your back straight, and summon all of your courage.” He said his hands trailing down Alex’s arms before catching Alex’s hands in his own.

“Then if all else fails, count.” He whispered Alex nodded.

“Ready?” Burr asked as Aaron slipped back once again. Alex raised an eyebrow huffed out a sarcastic breath and shook his head.

“Yeah, me either Ham.” He said.

Together the pair made the move from the back bathroom stall to Ms. Curtis room confidently. When they entered their eyes immediately fell on the closely shaved brown head of the man who sat in the seat across from her. The man whose white shirt was bunched up around his elbows, not in well calculated rolls but in a way that look like he had shoved them there, wrinkles be damned. A man whose pants were bordering on the side of too short and who did not wear matching socks to hide the gap.

A man who in the face of Alex, Aaron, and Mrs. Curtis current attire looked somewhat out of place. Alex found his shoulders relaxing with this realization.  Maybe this general was not as bad as the others he had encountered. Aaron tensed the same thought running through his brain but a much harsher outcome forcing him to keep alert.

“Boys,” Ms. Curtis explained once she took note of their presence. Pushing her chair back and standing as she did. The general followed suit spinning around with a grin that lit up the entirety of his face for a millisecond before his face fell and his gaze became more forced. He scanned Aaron first eyes critical as he assessed the teen before him. Next the man’s eyes darted to the bruises forming around Alex’s eyes. Alex drew his bottom lip under his teeth and tried to hide the hitch of his breath. 

_'one, two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty two, sixty four,_

_trente-deux,  seize,  huit, quatre, deux, un, _

_ dos, cuatro, ocho, dieciséis, treinta y dos, sesenta y cuatro."  _

Burr, ever aware, took a big step forward blocking Alex from the scrutinizing gaze and reached out a stiff hand.

"Mr. Washington, I presume" 

* * *

_**Next time,**_ before agreeing to take on two new foster placements, George Washington was going to listen to the entire request. Not that he regretted his decision yet. Goodness, he had not even met the boys, and he had not once in twenty years found a foster that he regretted having.

In fact, it was more often that he regretted turning away fosters. A sad commonality with in the past four months as Martha and himself tried to find a new normal with Gilbert.  They had only just realized they found one a week ago, realized that Gilbert seemed adjusted and happy with his new home and new school. Sure the language barrier was difficult but they were managing.  

Maybe that is why when he was brought into a conference call with Montgomery and Nelly as he pulled into driveway the night before, his agreement to take on the two teen boys was immediate and echoed enthusiastically by Martha. Gilbert, had fluttered somewhere between nervous and excited. Or maybe just confused and excited. George’s French was pretty poor and despite learning a lot with in the past few months Gilbert still struggled when speaking in English.

But everything seemed to go well, the boys would finish off the first semester of school in New Jersey. There was only a little more than a month left before Holiday break and getting them settled would be easier during a transition time. It would also allow George and Martha had a few days in which they could meet them in New Jersey.

A great plan that had been shattered when he was called at lunch and the time table went from a few weeks to a few hours. Martha had paused, but agreed none the less and Gilbert did not seem to completely why they were coming so quickly understand but was excited nonetheless. Then came the shuffle of trying to get to them.

George was unfortunately in DC that day, and even taking off immediately after his last meeting did not place George at the foster care center until practically six in the evening and Martha was at the Hospital until nine.

Despite the lack of preparation, it seemed when George left the office that everything was going to end up working out well. Traffic was manageable for the most part.

Then that illusion shattered however when he opened the door to Nelly’s office. The young woman in question was seated, not behind her desk, but rather perched atop it with her legs folded under her and a small binder displayed in her lap. A quick survey of the room confirmed that she was the only person there.

“Nelly,”

“George, oh goodness is it already that late?” She said pushing herself to her feet and motioning him farther into the room as she slipped around her desk and checked the clock that sat there.

“Six ten,” he offered as he slipped down into the chair.

“This day seems to be in a cycle of hurry up and wait. I swear it was just five thirty-two minutes ago.”

“Oh dear.”

“I apologize; you are probably wondering where they are?”

“Did Richard get stuck in traffic?”

“No, they went to the restroom  a little bit ago. They did not seem to be adjusting as well as we hoped.”

He opened his mouth to comment when a wet cough was heard behind him revealing he stood up and swiveled to meet the two teens with a grin that he struggled to keep once he caught glimpse of them. Both seemed unnaturally thin, the taller of the two held himself like the soldier’s George commanded in field combat. Back ramrod straight, shoulders flat and stiff, hands placed palm against thigh. The smaller of the two held a similar stance for the most part. Though he seemed to vibrate with energy. His head tilted his fingers drummed. The most notable thing about the boy however, was the bruises that littered his face. Then the smaller boys breath hitched and his stance became still with fear. George's face fell and he took a wide step forward as he spoke, “Are….”

“Mr. Washington I presume,” the taller boy said as he shuffled forward blocking the smaller from sight and offering out a flat hand. George startled for a half second before stepping forward and slipping both hands around the smaller hand in a firm handshake.


	6. Head Full Of Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which......
> 
> George Washington is in over his head.  
> Gilbert Du Motier makes a bad first impression.  
> Aaron Burr finally cracks.  
> Alex is ready to throw some more punches.  
> and Nate is just trying to figure this all out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first I apologize for taking so long with this chapter. It was really hard to write for me. I knew what I wanted to happen in terms of plot but I just couldn't write it in a way that I liked. This is draft like 30 and I am still not really happy with the result (that being the portrayal of Gilbert). I hope you all enjoy. I may change this chapter heavily later on. I will leave an author note if or when that happens. Thank you all for being so patient and so wonderful. Your comments really mean a lot to me.

Head Full of Fantasies

The forty-minute drive from the family service building to their newest placement felt longer than the five-hour drive to Virginia and was filled with the kind of palpable tension that made the air feel humid and sticky. Mr. Washington who sat in the driver seat hands firmly placed at ten and two and fingers drumming against the leather wrapped wheel had, thankfully, accepted the silence of Aaron and Alex relaxing into the quiet atmosphere as much as possible. While Aaron and Alex prepared for an atmosphere that would be less than quiet.

Mr. Washington had explained when they first reached the car that his godson Gilbert, and a former foster Nate would be at the house when they got there. It was said easily holding no bite or underlying threat just a warning that when they entered the house they would not be alone.  Aaron was grateful for that, it made the adjustment easier.

Then the man fumbled though a multitude of conversational topics before landing on

As the car turned off the main road and onto the unpaved gravel Aaron tensed. There was no house visible from the main road. Aaron opened his mouth to question but Mr. Washington seemed to have already guessed that this would be the reaction and prepared an answer.

“This land, and house for that matter have been in the Washington family for centuries. Same is true of the land in this area. Roads were put in after and curve though out the odd property lines of each estate. We turned off the main road but it will still be a bit before you see the house come into view on the right side.” He said gesturing to Aaron’s window as he did.  Aaron seized up a bit his heart speeding up pace as Alexander curled into himself hands wrapping around his stomach and back curling under. Aaron silently berated his own lack of foresight in stacking the two smaller bags on the seat between them, limiting his ability to reach over and provide comfort without drawing even more attention to themselves.

Which was important, because even now as Alexander curled Mr. Washington tracked the subtle movement with a pinched gaze. This gaze did not hold the sick sort of predatory undertone of men like Mr. Phillip, or the promise of violence that lingered behind Mr. Cunningham’s, in fact it did not even show the critical gaze that glossed his dark iris back at family services. This passing gaze was one that Aaron couldn’t name. A realization that made Aaron tighten his grip on Alexander and dig his upper teeth into his bottom lip hard, drawing blood from the tender skin.

As the car pulled to a stop and the boys shuffled out. Aaron realized that he had not given himself the chance to see the house before he was being ushered out of the car in the garage and lead to a covered walkway.

The house was huge. At least two stories high and wider than any single building Aaron had ever seen before. It was painted cream white with a red roof, green shutters, and the reddish brown entrance doors. The main building reminded Aaron of Mr. George’s home in size and grandeur. Though the flat face was a far cry from the offset and darker colored modern home.

He did not realize that he was lost in his memory until he felt the sharp bite of Alexander’s nails digging into his palm. With a slow blink Aaron twisted to face Alex and Mr. Washington. The former of the pair was looking at Aaron in panicked concern, that Aaron attempted to placate by slipping their hands together and giving a tight squeeze. Aaron then turned his eyes to the latter of which who was looking at him with an expression splitting the concerned gaze from the car and the critical one from before.

“Is everything alright son?”

“Of course,” Aaron said biting back every memory of Mr. George calling him Son with clinched teeth, “shall we?”

Mr. Washington nodded and motioned for the pair of teens to continue walking around the front of the house and enter though the middle door.

When they crossed the threshold Aaron searched the area for anything to differentiate this large house from the house that haunted his dreams. He was still scanning and fighting back his panic when  a solid form smashed into Aaron’s chest making him scramble backward to keep on his feet. Aaron caught his eyes tight waiting for the impact of a fist or a knee when suddenly the weight was off of him and was replaced by a very tense smaller form.

Alex; his mind supplied after a minute. His eyes still tightly closed.

Alex who is ready to start fighting.

His eyes shoot open as his arms dart to grab Alex’s shoulders and press the younger teen against him. To ground himself using the warm and solid form of Alex to chase away the memories of attacks that where flooding inward.

“Alex,” He whispered burying his face into the smaller teens shoulder, and gripping the smaller arms in his hand tightly. He could hear the sounds of others talking, their voices floating high above him and not actually making sense. Aaron let out a loud choked hiccuping sob as he felt the tension melt from Alexander’s body before the smaller boy twisted returning Aaron’s hug.

“I am sorry,” Aaron whispered. Knowing fair well that he just jeopardized their chances of staying at this house. Alexander pressed their hands together and signed the word safe repeatedly, safe.

As Aaron slipped down the back of the door he felt anything but.

* * *

 

Nathanael Greene jerked forward gripping the open air as Gilbert darted forward. In the second it took him to realize that Gilbert had slipped his grip the lengthy preteen had slammed into the taller of the two teenagers and was speaking in quick fire French. this despite the conversations that Nate had attempted to hold half in French and half in English warning against this exact action.

He knew that Gilbert was not able to contain his excitement at the best of times. A fall out from living on an estate and having very little contact until he moved to America a few months ago. He himself had been subjected to such a hug a few days ago when he landed in DC. He meant well, he really did, he just was not one to deal with delicate situations.

Nate stepped forward when he saw the complete fear take over the teens face. Pulling Lafeyette back quickly as the smaller teen forced himself between the pair with fists clinched and a look like a caged animal ready to strike.

 George seemed to freeze for a minute not realizing what had taken place.

“Je ne comprends pas. Qu'ai-je fais de mal?” Gilbert muttered becoming more and more flustered as he spoke.  

“It’s alright, it’s alright, but I need you to go upstairs.” Nate said slowly directing Gilbert upstairs and keeping an eye on George who seemed completely frozen at this point staring at the two boys paused trying to decipher the situation before him.  

“Ils sont bouleversés.Qu'ai-je fais de mal” Gilbert stuttered looking toward George for answers as Nate continued to direct him away. Thankfully the smaller of the two seemed capable of comforting his peer until Nate could empty the room.

“It’s alright, you did nothing wrong, but I need you to go upstairs for me.” He said finally moving the boy to the first step of the stairs and placing pressure to lead the child further up.

“Je suis vraiment désolée. Je ne voulais pas vous contrarier.” He stuttered.

“Upstairs Gilbert,” George said voice dropping into a lower octave, the sign of a command.  Gilbert tensed at the sound and teen who had at this point collapsed to the ground let out a soft hiccuping sob. Nate pushed the bottom of Gilbert’s back against one more time before the child seemed to break from his stupor and rushed up the stairwell.

Nate let out a small huff and twisted back to the other two. George by this time had moved to try and comfort the two older boys so Nate followed after.

Gilbert had moved upstairs and thrown himself on to his bed.  

“Gilbert,”

“I have scared them; I do not mean to.”

“It is alright, come here, it is alright. It is all going to be alright.” Nate said holding his arms out for the boy to burrow himself into his arms. Nate gripped tight and wondered how in the world they were going to make a new normal out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here are some things that I wanted to fit in but couldn't figure out how for this chapter. (will probably address later on as well)
> 
> One Gilbert is not going to have some troubles communicating for a while and his loud personality will result in tension. I see so often that he just gets along right away with foster kid Alex and I wanted to show an alternate turn of events. Note he is not being mean or vindictive. They are just going to struggle to get along for a bit. 
> 
> Other past fosters will come in to play later on.
> 
> Sorry once again for the short and late and probably bad chapter. I am not happy with it but at least it is finished.
> 
>  
> 
> French phrase Translations (from Reverso): 
> 
> Je ne comprends pas. Qu'ai-je fais de mal? - I do not understand. What did I do wrong?  
> Ils sont bouleversés, Qu'ai-je fais de mal?- They're upset, what did I do wrong?  
> Je suis vraiment désolée. Je ne voulais pas vous contrarier.- I am verry sorry. I did not mean to upset you.


	7. A Yellow Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron and Alexander finally have a bit of peace.  
> Martha Washington is a southern mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this took so long to update.  
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter.

A Yellow Sky

Aaron Burr’s panic attacks always resulted in a major migraine and bone deep exhaustion. The attack itself was shitty enough but Aaron held fast to the belief that the results were much worse. As he forced his eyelids to part the first morning at the Washington house his beliefs were confirmed. His neck was tight, his head throbbed, and his entire body felt less like a combination of organs, bones, and tissues and more like a pile of cement formed into his general body shape. Despite the fact his body felt like cement his nerves felt like live wires ready to propel him into panic when an opportunity presented itself.

 Other than his general discomfort the first thing he noted was the fact he was no longer in the Washington foyer. He was instead facing a bright blue fireplace that Aaron was pretty sure had not seen a fire for at least a few years. The walls where white, not off white or cream white but hospital white. As his mind finally began to clear panic seized in his chest when he realized that he could not see Alex. He bolted up right. His eyes scanning the room quickly as his breath hitched.

Alex who had been sitting on the edge of the bed behind the curled Aaron jolted forward as Aaron moved. Dropping the notebook he had been writing in and scrambling to get in front of Aaron and place his hands on his pseudo-bother’s shoulders. Aaron shook off the hands and pushed them off of himself. Alex then grabbed Aaron’s chin and forced the older boy to meet his gaze. Aaron’s gaze was clouded for a few minutes. But then realization set in and Alex was crushed against Aaron’s chest.

“I thought they took you.” Aaron hiccuped his hands grappling trying to pull Alex closer than he already was. Alex just shook his head and held on to Aaron tight as he could and tried to reassure Aaron whilst the other boy murmured his fears into the shoulder of Alexander’s long sleeved shirt. After the panic subsided Aaron released his grip on Alex and just slumped forward, boneless.

Alex gave him one last strong hug before pulling back and catching the older boys gaze. Then Alex shifted so Aaron could see his hands as he signed four very basic words. _Here, always, together, always_. Aaron responded with the sign for _same_.

A half an hour later saw Aaron leaning against the headboard with a lap full of resting Alex. The younger boy was probably half way between rest and awareness whilst Aaron ran his fingers though the shoulder length dark brown hair and read though Robinson Cursoe for the umpteenth time in a soft melodic tone. The book was an old paper back whose spine cover had long since peeled off to show the binding of the pages and whose front cover looked as if it had been a mid-day snack for a  group of small rodents. 

But it was precious. A parting gift from their therapist at the hospital who went by the name of Mr. Franklin. The man had been kind if not a bit eccentric and was the one to find that Alex preferred not to be addressed by his full name and passed that knowledge on to Aaron. 

Aaron was familiar enough with the book to not become completely enthralled in it which meant he took note of when the door knob began to turn and with a quick jab to Alexander’s armpit to wake the younger boy. As the door continued to creak open Aaron expected to see Mr. Washington looming in the hallway. With broad shoulders rolled back and dressed in night clothes that held a sort of regal nature to them.

What he did not expect was a shorter plumper woman in a nightgown with a robe draped over her shoulders but not yet tied off in the front. Her hair was in a haphazard bun and did not seem to be combed though yet. Mrs. Washington. Aaron sat up straight and Alex jumped to sit up straight next to him. The two boys reached out to grab each other’s hands.

“Y’all awake already, my, it’s barely half past six.” The woman said stepping into the room.

“There is always some difficulties sleeping in a new place Ma’am.” Aaron responded quickly.

“Of course, of course. I was just hoping that after yesterday you two would find some better rest.” The woman said as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Never mind that though, you boys must be starving. Why don’t you all come downstairs and I fix up some pancakes for you.” She said reaching out and patting Aaron’s leg before standing and leaving the room.

After the door was safely shut Aaron stood and began digging his clothes out of the armoire to dress for the day. Not wanting to give the Washington’s any reason for the family to send them away. Alex grabbed his notebook from beside Aaron’s side of the bed and pulled the pen from the spine and quickly scrabbled ‘She is a character’ on the front cover that was surprisingly unused and turned it around, tapping on the notebook with the pen to draw Aaron’s attention to it.

“Be nice.” Aaron commented as he shrugged on a new pale gray button up and fastened the cuff buttons. Then shucking off his pants and underwear to change into a new pair. “And get dressed we do not want to give them any more reasons to send us away.”

 _‘Speak for yourself’_ Alex penned out as he stood and shoved the notebook into Aaron’s chest as he begrudgingly dressed himself.

“Alex, you would do well to remember that if this placement doesn't work out Nelly could very well try and separate us.” Aaron said placing the notebook inside his messenger bag and tucking it away in the back of the dresser and pulling out two ties, two belts, and a pair of underwear and pants for Alex throwing them onto the bed.

Aaron quickly tucked his tie under his collar and slipped it into a Windsor knot, tucked his shirt into his pants, and fastened his belt. Meanwhile, Alex was still lagging behind in fastening the buttons on his shirt. Thankfully he had managed to get his underwear and pants changed.  

“Hurry up I do not think that they are type to wait around for fosters to get with the program.”

Alex tucked his shirt into his pants and buttoned them up and slipped his belt though his pants and buckled it one loop to large so it hung loosely against his hips.

His top few buttons were not buttoned but he did have it fastened around his wrists. Aaron stepped around and fetched a hair tie and two pairs of socks. Aaron finished dressing as Aaron pulled the younger boys medication out of the dresser and separated out the morning dosage.

Alexander was all dressed barring his tie when Aaron twisted back to face him and pressed the pills into his hand. Alex’s eyes became weak and pleading as his face flushed.

“Come on Lexie. I know it sucks but we got to keep you on some kind of schedule.” Aaron said as he tucked his arm around Alex’s and lifted it up toward his mouth. Then focused on tying Alex’s tie for him while he swallowed the pills.

The dance was long and complex but familiar. This has been their morning routine for the past few months.

When they made it down to the first floor they paused, realizing suddenly that they did not actually know how to get to the kitchen.

“Mon amis, is all well.” A voice with a thick French accent called from the first door on the right Aaron was suddenly behind Alexander as the younger boy pressed his hands up and prepared for a fight.

“I mean no sickness to you.” The pre-teen said walking forward. He was dressed in a school uniform and probably had about five inches on Aaron barring the curly ponytail that sat atop of his head.

“We are looking for the kitchen or dining room.” Aaron stepped forward placing himself between the pair.

“Ah yes.” The pre-teen nodded “come” he said as he walked to the second door on the left hand side. Inside was a fairly old world but still well-functioning kitchen and in the center stood Mrs. Washington flipping the pancakes on a plug in griddle.

‘Maman,” the pre-teen called alerting the woman to the boy’s presence.

‘Gilbert, dear the bus will be here any minute. You best be getting on if you don’t want to miss it.” The woman said turning on her heal and using her spatula as a pointer. Then she let out a sound of surprise and walked over to the trio. She shooed Gilbert away then let her arms hover behind the boys back as she led them to sit at a small breakfast table.

“Aaron, Alexander dears. I completely forgot that Gilbert had not given you the grand tour last evening. No worries we will have y’all ‘custom in no time. Now come and sit I made a heep of pancakes. Didn’t know what kind y’all liked.” She said as she plated the pancakes on the griddle then began to serve them up.

As she moved she talked, posed questions that were both personal and completely generic such as, what is your favorite color. All of these questions she would answer herself which made the pair of misplaced boys feel more at ease. So much at ease in fact that Aaron felt comfortable correcting Mrs. Washington when she called Alex by his full name the third or fourth time.

“It is Alex ma’am. He goes by Alex.”

“Of course dear,” Mrs. Washington replied then kept right on talking. Beside him Aaron could feel Alex relax into this new home. Despite himself Aaron felt himself relaxing into it as well.

He just hoped that this peace would last.


End file.
